


Loyal Little Pet

by SinsWithin



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Captive, Dominance, Dubious Consent, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Prisoner Hood, Submission, prisoner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 22:23:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19981495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinsWithin/pseuds/SinsWithin
Summary: Oneshot for Galraslut's birthday! Sorry if it feels OoCThrok has been held captive from the initial interrogation from when Lotor and his Generals attacked his base in the Ulippa system to long after Lotor assumed power over the Empire. He's had a lot of time in isolation and it's beginning to wear him down, leaving the touch starved Galra desperate for any scrap of attention.





	Loyal Little Pet

**Author's Note:**

> Belated birthday gift for Galraslut!!
> 
> I know there are some random spots where the text jumps to the next line, unfortunately I'm unable to fix it ): Hopefully it doesn't impact the experience!

An ear perked up at the faintest detection of sound. The deprivation of his other senses gave a new found boost to his hearing. A blessing and a curse, as he often swore he heard something, but it was simply his mind playing tricks.

Despite his heartbeat anxiously picking up in anticipation, he remained motionless against the cold floor of the black-out cell. He had long since learned how futile it was to struggle against his binds. He didn't even make a fuss anymore, he stopped screaming and shouting in hopes that someone who still admired, or even pitied Throk, would free him from this unjust imprisonment. He noticed that if he was silent, he'd sooner see someone than if he was acting out.

It struck his pride to be such an obedient prisoner, and he certainly hated himself for it, but his desperation for anything other than the empty void he was trapped in overtook him everytime. Whether someone came to torture him, mock him, feed him; he now craved the interaction and sought to drag it out for as long as he could. Even if it meant aggravating his captor into beating him senseless. At least then he could think about the pain he was in to pass the time. During his last punishment, they had cut the scrap remains of his attire, leaving him bare and exposed.

Vulnerable.

Throk released a jagged breath, feeling the heat of it close to his face. His body was secured; arms behind his back, knees bent with his calves secured to his thighs, as he laid on his stomach, his face resting against the floor. He could hardly feel the coolness of it through the blacked-out hood he was forced to wear. As if leaving him in a pitch-black room wasn't enough, they didn't even allow him the luxury of staring at the walls. Instead, he was left staring into an empty void. He dare not move. As uncomfortable as the position was with the shackles, there was no alleviating it. His limbs would grow numb with time and he'd forget all about them.

His other ear perked up as he faintly heard something like metal on metal. There was definitely someone coming, he was certain of it. His heart began to hammer anxiously in his chest. He couldn't quite place it as fear or excitement, feeling his whole body betray him with gentle quivering.

_'What time is it? They can't be back so soon. Are they feeding me? Are the guards changing shifts? Is there even someone guarding my door?'_

Throk jolted, startled by the sound of the entrance opening, followed by three very light, calculated steps. He felt every muscle in his body tense as every hair stood bristled. With the hood, he couldn't even use scent to identify them. He knew it wasn't a guard, they surely would have kicked him or mocked his current state by now. Instead, he was met with silence. He couldn't steady his breath enough to listen closer. He was fighting the panic, he didn't know why they were silent, watching him. At least that's what he told himself. He knew they were watching him writhe in discomfort.

"I-Is this a fetish of y-yours," Throk's broken voice not nearly as snide as he was aiming for as he quivered, "Staring at y-your naked p-prisoners?"

He held his breath, bracing and awaiting the assault he was hoping to achieve, except it never came. He slowly untensed his body but his heart kept pounding. Although hardly audible over the chattering of his teeth, the door slid closed.

Panic rose in his chest as several questions passed through his mind. Had he actually heard someone come in? Did they leave? We're they just opening the door to make sure he was still there? Was it because he spoke out if line? Did he just damn himself to loneliness? He cursed himself for being so bold. As several doboshes passed, he knew he only had himself to blame, he knew better than this. His body slumped against the restraints as another shaky, defeated breath escaped him, the warmth circulating within the hood.

It was then, in this moment of utter silence that he heard cloth on cloth; the shifting of one's weight from one foot to the other.

His heart rejoiced and recoiled at the same time. He felt the shivers racking his body in a whole new way. They were watching him in his vulnerable state, immobile and helpless. He felt his breathing pick up once more, entirely against his will. They were toying with him now- were they aware of his desperation? Was this planned?

They must have known that he'd heard them as they casually stalked closer, the sound of the final footstep right next to Throk's face. He shook in anticipation, waiting and silently begging for something to happen, anything at all. Impatience overtook him as he shifted his upper body, moving his head towards where the sound had been. There was less than half a tick of contact before the foot was swiftly moved away.

"No!!" Throk cried out involuntarily, his body freezing in place. He had absolutely not meant to say that out loud. He could only imagine just how smug his visitor must look right now. The ex-Commander, _begging_ them not to move their foot, _that_ level of _desperate_.

Just as Throk was about to chew himself out, he felt a gentle touch through the hood, against his cheek. They set their foot flat, next to him, still keeping contact. Not knowing what possessed him to do so, Throk leaned and tilted his head closer, rubbing his cheek against the top of their foot through the the hood. How sad and pathetic he must look hardly crossed his mind. He inched his body closer, nuzzling their ankle. All he wanted, right there and then, was physical contact.

"N-no..." he whimpered, feeling them draw away. Throk could hardly believe himself right now, and at the same time, he felt no shame for it. Stars know how long he's been kept prisoner here, tortured and humiliated quintant after quintant, movement after movement. He had become unimaginably touch starved in that time.

He was met with two very warm hands, one under his shoulder and the other under his hip as they carefully rolled him over, his arms still restrained against his lower back, bound knees raising up so that his feet met the floor. He remained in position, chest rising and falling rapidly. His whole body jerked as he heard the clinking of metal drawing closer to his face, remembering the sound from outside the door.

He tried to pull away but was met with a foot firmly planted on his chest, heel digging in until he obediently stilled himself. Throk continued shivering, feeling cold metal pooling over his chest as something was placed over...no, it was being wrapped around this throat. Tightly. He tilted his chin up, hoping some mercy would be given as the material was fastened beneath the rim of the prisoner hood still blacking out his vision.

Once secured, he was rewarded with a warm hand gently running over his chest. He arched his back pressing into the touch, his coarse throat betraying him with a dry, broken purr. His toes flexed involuntary as the hand found its way around his abdomen, trailing lower and lower. His legs spread as two fingers gingerly brushed his slit, but as he felt the trail of fluid, his mind snapped back to reality and he slammed his knees shut, tilting his hips away. He heard swift movement as the chain was snatched and yanked to the side.

"Agh-hg-!" Throk choked out, shaking his head. Thrashing was proving futile, but he didn't know what else to do amidst panic. All he could do was cough and sputter until it was over. By the time the chain was dropped on the floor next to him he was a writhing, heaving mess, gasping for air within a hood that hardly permit it. Panic flooded him once more as he fought to breathe.

Making good use of the distraction, he felt his knees being spread apart, but he was far too exhausted to fight them. He let them lay loose, jumping slightly when he felt something wide and flat begin to press against his slick slit. He thought little of it until it began pushing, and he groaned, tensing his body against the offense. Throk relaxed again as the pressure eased up, realising it must be a boot.

This went on for a few doboshes until he found his body responding on its own, heat pooling in his lower abdoment as he began gently rocking his hips to meet the boot as it dug into his slit. He could feel the tip of his member beginning to slip free from his sheath, lubricating the sole.

"Nnngh," Throk moaned through grit teeth. The boot was shifted higher, heel grinding into his slit as they stepped on his protrusion. He arched his back and tilted his hips, rubbing himself against them more aggressively. He'd begun panting in the hood, giving him a lightheaded, elated sensation, which assisted in clouding his judgement. He could feel himself getting closer to the edge, his breaths turned to moans filled with dire need.

"Ah-!" Throk moaned, "I- I can't-!"

Without a moment to spare, Throk's entire body seized as his seed was spilt, coating the fine fur of his belly. His hips jerked in time with the additional strings of fluid bursting forth from his tip. Breathless, Throk fell limp, not even noticing the weight of the boot being removed, nor the movement that was happening around him. He recognized the hands being set back upon him, pulling him forwards until his knees met the floor and he was resting hunched over.

Feeling the tug of the chain, Throk haphazardly lifted his head, too exhausted to resist just yet. He felt them step their foot between his thighs, resting against his slit once more. Their knee against his chest, he could feel their thigh against his cheek. Throk nuzzled against it gratefully, the gargled remnants of a purr trapped within his dry throat. Throk's hips began bucking ever so slightly, rubbing his wet slit against their ankle, his thick seed dripping down his stomach leaving sticky trails to the floor, cock still throbbing despite the cold air.

A hand gingerly placed against the back of his head guided him inwards where he felt a mass pressing against his cheek. Without thought, he continued rubbing his cheek against the bulge through the hood, slowly but forcefully. He felt their body tremble for a tick as a jagged breath escaped them, and he felt a personal rise from their pleasure. After a few more passes, Throk set his lips against the front of them, blowing his hot breath through his hood and against their straining member.

They sucked in a deep breath through their teeth, and Throk found his head being help in position by both hands now. Feeling them pushing him closer, he took another deep breath, releasing it slowly as he felt their hips begin to rock against his face, over the hood.

"Ah..mmhhh," Throk moaned against them, tilting his head and kneading at the mass through the materials with his lips. The sheer sounds of their uneven breathing had him humping their foot with far more intent. He was absolutely eager to please this visitor, having been granted the most pleasurable luxuries of his imprisonment.

Their hands released their hold, yet he kept his face pressed against their evident erection. He felt one guide him out of the way as he heard the other fumble the open their lower garments. Despite being leaned away, the tip of their cock brushed his nose over the hood. He tilted his head up, pressing his lips against their head, which dampened the front of the hood, and blew more hot breath against them. Clearly impatient, Throk then felt their hands near his neck tugging at the fasteners of the hood, and his heart leapt with excitement as he would soon be rewarded with the return of his vision. However, the moment his hood was yanked off, he looked up and his expression immediately dropped as his eyes met that of yellow and blue, glimmering with a disappointed gaze in the dark.

"P-Prince Lotor?!" he exclaimed in both shock and confusion.

" ** _EMPEROR_** **Lotor** ," he corrected aggressively through grit teeth. As Throk opened his mouth to speak, the Emperor thrust himself within him, firmly grasping Throk's head as he fought against the sudden intrusion creeping down his throat. He coughed over Lotor's member, swallowing hard as it was withdrawn to just the tip. He absolutely hated admitting it to himself, but after so many movements he was quite happy to actually taste something in his mouth that wasn't bland, prisoners food goo, or his own blood. Though disgusting for him to consider too much, he craved more.

His thoughts were cut short as Lotor took hold of the metal chain connected to what Throk could only assume was a collar, wrapping it around his fist and pulling it close to his hips. Throk squinted as he was once again forced to deepthroat Lotor, eyes watering as he tried to relax the muscles in his throat. He started swallowing against him, ears twitching as he heard a less restrained moan from the Emperor.

Lotor had resumed shifting his hips, his other hand still set upon Throk's head, guiding it back and forth along his shaft. Throk was moaning in delight as he savoured the salty secretions of Lotor's self-lubrication, the reverberations sending pleasurable chills along Lotor's spine. He could feel Throk's sharp teeth grazing dangerously along his member, which only heightened his adrenaline amidst the exchange.

He looked down upon the once proud Commander, seeing Throk's brows furrowed as he hungrily accepted his Emperor's cock. Casting his gaze further, Lotor could very clearly see Throk's own straining erection still rubbing his ankle, dripping wet. Throk had resumed grinding against Lotor's foot, more fervant than before as his tongue explored the expanse of Lotor's shaft, pointedly dipping into his tip as he drew out.

He deeply enjoyed watching Throk's expression shift from desperate to distressed depending on how thoroughly Lotor decided to face-fuck him. Throk tried as hard as he could to forget that it was Lotor who was using him, yet he couldn't help but glance up occasionally, taking in the sight of Lotor biting his lower lip as he thrust in and out of Throk's mouth. He never imagined he would be in the receiving end of Lotor's cock, but after all he'd been through since the interrogations began, he was reluctant to admit the fondness he felt for this intimacy.

He absolutely loathed Lotor for what he had done to ruin everything he had built up for himself. Even after submitting to Lotor in battle and accepting his immediate demotion, Lotor further shred his reputation, marking him as a traitor and staining his name for the rest of his existence. And despite all Lotor has done to destroy his life in every way possible...here he was, still as obedient as ever, submitting to his Emperor and doing as he is directed, regardless of his resentment. He knew first-hand what being perceived as going against the Empire entailed.

Lotor removed himself from Throk, and the hunched Galra watched him with great caution. He was reluctant as Lotor pressed his palm against Throk's back, pressing lightly.

"Down," Lotor commanded. Throk's ears lowered, a whimper involuntarily escaping his mouth. Lotor snatched up the metal leash once more.

"I said, _DOWN!_ " he snarled, yanking the leash to the floor, causing Throk to yelp in surprise. Throk's chest heaved anxiously as he kept his face down, another soft whimper slipping out as he listened to Lotor walk behind him, out of sight. He flinched as he felt Lotor's fingers against his thighs, unfastening the binds keeping his calves bound to his thighs. Throk felt a rush as the circulation in his legs began to flow less impeded. As the restraints were dropped, Throk raised his bottom up, stretching his legs to fully for the first time in many quintant.

"Oh, good boy," Lotor cooed in a humiliating tone. While Throk processed the words, he felt Lotor press his tip against his exposed bottom.

"Gah- N-n-n-" Throk stuttered, somehow unable to find the right word.

"What was that? Hm?" Lotor asked rhetorically, giving the chain attached to the collar a polite tug to remind Throk who was in charge.

"N-nn-mmm..." Throk trailed off, turning his face away in shame as he spread his legs wider for Lotor. He flinched as Lotor's hands gently caressed along his sore, aching thighs, massaging with his thumbs.

"There's a good boy," Lotor mocked, giving Throk a few gentle pats. The ex-Commander snarled silently out of sight, despite the warmth surfacing over his cheeks from the praise.

"Now then Throk. Are you going to behave yourself while I make good use of you?" Lotor inquired in a tone that grated on Throk's nerve. With no response after a few ticks, Lotor gave Throk's leash a sharp yank.

"Y-yes..." he mumbled quietly.

"What was that, Throk?" Lotor chimed.

Throk remained silent, earning himself another mild choking from Lotor's collar. He sputtered, trembling and squirming. "Y-Yes Sir- gh- I'll behave- hhhnng!!"

"Good boy," Lotor cooed sarcastically, letting up on his hold, "That wasn't so hard, now was it?"

"N-no S-Sir..." Throk responded between breaths. He jumped slightly as he felt Lotor's hand gently rubbing his bottom in approval of his answer.

Lotor set his feet between Throk's, tapping against each to signal him to spread them wider. He obliged, shifting them both out, then bending slightly at the knee. He knew he was much taller than Lotor, but at the same time, his legs were weakened by fatigue and began to shake uncontrollably. Such a thing certainly would not to for Lotor.

"Kneel," he ordered. Throk hesitated at first, but bent at the knee until his shins were securely planted on the ground. His ears sprung up as Lotor unshackled Throk's wrists which fell lifelessly to his sides. He winced as blood returned rapidly coursing through his veins. He managed to twitch his fingers into a shakey fist before relaxing them. "Support yourself."

Throk grunted, sliding his hands up towards his chest, weakly lifting himself before resting his head atop his folded arms. He hadn't realized how much he missed the use of his arms, the comforts they could provide him. He was taken away from this moment as Lotor resettled himself behind Throk, warm hands running along his waist soothingly. Throk wanted to hate Lotor for such meaningless gestures, but deep down he was basking in his touch. He missed the warmth of another body pressed against his, and the comforts of a hand absentmindedly caressing him. And if the moment was right, he enjoyed where that physical contact had a tendency to lead them.

But instead, he was here, wrongfully imprisoned, being forced to submit to the half-breed that framed him in the first place. He groaned against his arms as he felt Lotor's straining member brushing against his entrance. He'd expected Lotor to simply plough into him, using him as his own living, disposable fleshlight. Yet instead, he was being patient and procedural. Though perhaps Lotor wasn't the type to break his toys right away, he figured. Having Lotor's wet secretions coating his entrance, mixing with his own filled Throk with a warmth in the pit if his stomach.

Throk closed his eyes, releasing a jagged breath. He tried to clear his mind and imagine someone, anyone else, but each time Lotor gave a grunt or moan he was brought back to the moment. He loathed his body for its reaction to Lotor's stimulation, how he felt such a rise when Lotor's nails dragged along his sides. He arched his back as they trailed from his ribs to his hips before Lotor took a firm hold with one hand. He used the other to position himself, pressing the tip of his tapered head into Throk's resistant opening.

"Relax..." Lotor purred, rubbing Throk's lower back. Throk's lip curled back as he snarled to himself. He would definitely prefer to be completely rawed and ravaged than endure the humiliation of Lotor using him while he was feeling vulnerable and submissive. That all faded away as Throk felt the notch of Lotor's head begin to slip inside. Ears laid back and eyes closed, Throk moaned out, instinctively tilting his hips upwards to provide easier access for more.

"Good boy..." Lotor moaned, easing his shaft into Throk. Throk's voice hitched as he felt Lotor's girth fill his body, stretching him open. When Throk hissed at him, Lotor ceased, removing an inch to let Throk adjust a little more. Not taking kindly to the gesture of pity, Throk began pushing his bottom back, taking the Emperor to the hilt, jolting when his member pushed against a very sensitive location. Throk slid forwards before taking all of Lotor again, cursing as he bumped his pleasure spot a second time. Steadying his stance, Lotor grasped Throk's hips.

"Are you ready, _pet?_ " Lotor purred, slipping his cock out enough that it was just his tip.

"P- ah!"

Throk hardly began the word when Lotor thrust into him with enough force to make Throk's knees buckle. He wasn't used to being face-down ass-up, especially not after being immobilized for so long. Lotor was slowly pulling out, but swiftly ramming himself back in, eliciting a chorus of grunts from Throk that began melding into little moans that raised in pitch as Lotor moved quicker.

"Doesn't that feel good now, _Pet?_ " Lotor sneered, claws digging into Throk's hips. He elicited a raspy groan, pushing back against Lotor to try and relieve the pain. He could feel the warmth of his own blood gently trickling down. He knew he'd heal from such insignificant pin pricks immediately, yet it still set his instincts ablaze. Throk could tell the bastard was enjoying his pitiful whimpers as he felt his cock twitch inside of him. He just wished that his own member wasn't doing the exact same.

Lotor danced his nails along Throk's sides a few more times, making him flinch and squirm before returning to his rut. He was deeply entertained by how quickly Throk could switch back to submissive the moment he was thrusting deep within him again. His little pet had been obedient thus far, so Lotor decided to reward him. Reaching around Throk's hip, he took a firm hold of his member, causing Throk to gasp out, his body locking up around Lotor's knot. It may not be that of a full Galra, but it still served its purpose and pleasures.

Lotor, gently stroking Throk's cock, began to slip his knot back and forth through Throk, the squeeze leave Lotor a guttoral mess. Throk's whimpers were far from pained as he was grinding into Lotor's hand. He could feel himself building up a second time, his moans desperate as he thrust himself rapidly against Lotor's knot, all the while being steadily shafted. He was forced to lift his head as Lotor began pulling the leash, but that in itself pushed him over the edge, spraying his seed along the cell floor.

He received a sharp smack against his bottom as Lotor held the leash uncomfortably tight. Throk's panting was raspy as he tried to pull the front of the collar to loosen it, but Lotor maintained his pace, roughly fucking into Throk's exhausted body. Lotor grunted with each thrust, watching Throk scramble more and more frantically with the collar, feeling Throk wrapped around him like a vice.

Lotor held a particularly deep thrust, and Throk felt a flood of heat coating him inside. When the heat ceased travelling, the leash was released and Throk crumbled to the ground, choking for air as milky-white trickled along his thighs. He flipped over onto his back, finally able to rest his aching limbs.

"You have performed well, _Pet_. I'm quite impressed," Lotor mused as he wiped off his remnants with the discarded prisoner hood before tucking himself away. He tossed the soiled hood onto Throk's chest. While he haphazardly wiped circles around his stomach, Lotor clasped two of the shackles around Throk's ankles.

"What?!" Throk exclaimed, propping himself up on his elbows. He stared at Lotor incredulously.

"You couldn't possibly have thought that this was your ticket to freedom," Lotor purred, a grin so coy Throk just wanted to beat it off of his face, "No, no, my Pet. This is _just_ the beginning."

Throk snarled at the Emperor, baring his fangs. Such a display, knowing that the ex-Commander was just willingly inseminated like an animal in heat, was an adorable attempt to be threatening. However, the flush of Throk's face and heaving of his chest did nothing for him.

"Careful, now. I could always put that hood back to good use."

Throk's expression dropped. He would do almost anything to not be put back into that endless void of darkness. Even if it meant playing 'pet' to the half-breed Emperor. Throk lowered his head with his ears back; a submissive gesture among the Galra. He would play Lotor's little game, for now. Lotor chuckled at the sight. He knew it wouldn't take much to have Throk wrapped around his finger. Turning his back, he gestured nonchalantly as the doors slid opened and he exited the cell, not looking back.

"Behave yourself, _Pet~_ "


End file.
